


Captain Stark’s Daydreaming (About One Star-Eyed Engineer)

by Sparcina



Series: Iron Webs to Covet [26]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Pining, ST: AOS/MCU Fusion, captain tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29519643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: Captain Stark is in love with Peter, the young chief engineer whose sharp wit and nimble fingers keep his ship afloat in the vastness of space.(And apparently, he ought to do something about it.)
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Iron Webs to Covet [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779883
Comments: 9
Kudos: 85
Collections: FandomFusionFlash 2021





	Captain Stark’s Daydreaming (About One Star-Eyed Engineer)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wali21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wali21/gifts).



> Dear wali21, I hope this fusion brings you joy!
> 
> Dear reader (who's not wali21): You know Star Trek? That's great, you'll get some fun references! You don't know Star Trek? No biggie! Here's what's you need to know: SHIELD is a deep-space exploratory and defense organization, and Tony is the captain of his own spaceship, currently on a diplomatic mission. That's it!
> 
> 🚀 Crew of _The Avenger_ 🚀  
> \- Tony Stark (captain)  
> \- Peter Parker (chief engineer)  
> \- Clint Barton (pilot)  
> \- Natasha Romanov (communications officer)  
> \- Loki (XO - executive officer, second in command)  
> \- Phil Coulson (CMO - chief medical officer)

Tony ‘don’t call me by my full name or my phaser won’t be on stun’ Stark had always wanted to explore the stars. Back when he’d been a troublesome youth, this dream had been just that: a lullaby to put his overactive mind to sleep. Dirt-poor and orphaned, reckless with his own life and unwilling to submit to the will of others, he'd spent time in a lot of interesting places, such as shelters, correction centers, and later on, jail. By the time he'd reached twenty-seven, he'd stopped dreaming of the stars.

Until one night, a supposed friend of his late father enamored with eye-patches had bailed him out of jail on the condition that Tony join SHIELD.

Being at least as resourceful and intelligent as he was arrogant, Tony had not only completed the command-track program in two and a half years instead of the usual four, but he’d also obtained his own ship right after his first mission, a three-year scientific exploration in the Helheim system. At thirty-four, he was the second youngest captain of the SHIELD fleet. He also had three PhDs under his belt, in exobiology, engineering and advanced physics, and could probably run _The Avengers_ all by himself if it wasn’t so massive, and yes, if being the captain didn’t mean a shit ton of paperwork.

Their current mission, a diplomatic venture in Skrull territory that would require Tony to keep his mouth shut most of the time, required even more paperwork than usual. Tony was already bored to tears skimming through the most recent document Fury had just sent him, a massive nightmare full of horrible annexes. It wasn’t that Tony disliked peace treaties. But there were only so many interesting things to do on a _diplomatic_ mission. Furthermore, he would have to be on his best behavior, and he could only hold back the sarcasm for so long. And last but not least, he already knew the Skrull sector like the back of his pocket, and why was Fury punishing him again?

Right. Because he’d punched Admiral Ross last month. The guy was an asshole and had had it coming, but Fury liked to make Tony’s life miserable every now and then. _It built character_ , he’d told him, smiling that (scary) happy smile that Tony knew meant bad news. 

Tony let his eyes roam the room, and felt his annoyance subside. At least, his crew was great, and all of his senior officers rocked. Tony would give his life for any one of them, and he knew that they would do the same. They were his family.

Clint, his pilot, was a mouthy brat, but he’d guided _The Avenger_ through asteroid fields with such dexterity that he’d more than earned the cocky behavior. His aim with a phaser was also eerily good, so Hawkeye (as he’d been nicknamed) often moonshined as security. Like Tony, he often spoke out of turn, but his sharp tongue was refreshing after the Academy, and Tony welcomed the banter.

If Clint was like a baby brother, Phil, the Chief Medical Officer, was the stern, strict older sibling who always knew, somehow, when Tony was hiding something important - or doing something he shouldn’t. Whenever Tony ended in medbay, Phil took on the mantle of mother hen, and didn’t shed it until Tony was 100 % operational again. Tony only had himself to blame for that, really: he’d once fled medbay claiming that his bullet wound was _just a scratch_ and ended up passed out in front of his quarters. Needless to say, Phil hadn’t been happy.

Tony’s eyes met Natasha’s, his talented communication officer. She spoke all the alien languages required for her position, and several more that Tony had never heard of. She was very good at what she did, and at many things beyond that, like calling Tony out on his bullshit or teaming up with Phil to force him to rest. Tony could only assume she was Fury’s ears and eyes on the ship, but he wasn’t going to complain: she was awfully pretty. And taken, too, a fact that Tony would have mourned if he wasn’t head over heels in love with someone else on board.

“… Captain?”

Tony snapped to attention. His first officer stood at his elbow, and like usual, Tony hadn’t sensed his approach.

“You’ve been staring at page 5 of your document for the last 2.3 minutes,” Loki declared. “Is something the matter?”

“Just bored.”

It had taken Tony an eternity to hand-pick a suitable second in command. He’d wanted someone who would listen to him when it was important, but also wouldn’t hesitate to engage Tony in a shouting match if Tony was, heavens forbid, wrong. They could be ugly as hell, as long as they were competent, reliable, hard-working, and spoke fluent science (the last criterium being the most important in Tony’s book).

Loki was all of that. He was also a Jotun, which might explain the miracle. Tony had hired him against Fury’s express wishes and was quite happy to have done so. Humans had a treaty with the Jötnar, so who cared if Loki had murdered another Jotun in cold blood on his home planet? Tony liked the castoff well enough. The blue skin full of mysterious markings and sharp red eyes made for an impressive deterrent - Jötnar had a reputation, even the non-violent ones - and if that didn’t work in a fight, well, Loki was quite apt at hand-to-hand combat, and handy with a blade. Tony owed him his life at least twice over, and so did half the people currently on the bridge. Even Clint, who’d been the most skittish around Loki at the beginning, liked him well enough nowadays.

“Anything interesting out there, Hawkeye?”

“Nope,” Clint replied, and made no attempt to match Tony’s exaggeratedly cheerful tone. “Just plain ol’ space.”

“You should be grateful we’ve not encountered any Chitauri ship so far, Captain,” Loki interjected.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m very grateful.”

His datapad pinged with a new message. Hoping for something _not_ boring, he slid his thumb across the screen. Perhaps someone had screwed up in one of the labs and he could pretend he was the only one who could fix it. He did love puzzles.

It wasn’t a puzzle. It was a report, which should have made him scoff, but he smiled. The report was from engineering.

From _Peter_.

Peter was his chief engineer, and his reports were a delight, brimming with complicated matters that Peter knew not to simplify. Each line seemed to vibrate with Peter’s enthusiasm for his job. It was no wonder Tony had chosen him: Peter was the best at what he did, and he did it with a smile that only seldom left his face. Sharp as a whip and cute as a button, he was everyone’s favorite little brother (even Loki’s).

Tony’s feelings for Peter were _not_ filial in the slightest, even though the kid was young enough to be his son. Peter had just turned seventeen when Tony had recruited him, and two years later, he still looked just as young.

Tony knew he shouldn’t think of the kid like that. Peter might not be a literal kid, but he sure was young. Tony had… baggage, some of which he’d barely started to unpack. The age difference couldn’t be ignored either - he was twice the kid’s age, for fuck’s sake. The power imbalance was another argument against entering a relationship (never mind the coronary it would give Fury). None of these reasons, however, would matter to Tony if Peter was interested. But the kid didn’t return his feelings. So, Tony held his tongue.

Silence didn’t make the feelings go away, of course. Some days, Tony wondered if they ever would. And if he kept visiting engineering more often than was strictly necessary, to the point where even _Phil_ commented on it, well, some part of him must really like to suffer after all. He just couldn’t get enough of those eager smiles, the special one that lit up the kid’s whole face for Tony, and just for Tony. He couldn’t get enough of those ‘yes, Captain!’ When Those words left the kid’s heart-shaped mouth, all Tony wanted to do was grab two fistfuls of red shirt and kiss his chief engineer within an inch of his life.

Tony didn’t, of course. He sure fantasized about it in the privacy of his quarters, though, fucking his fist at the thought of Peter spread out in his bed - a double, the only one on board. The kid blushed so easily, and Tony would really, really like to know how far down it went. How much stimulation would it take for the kid to scream his name? Did Peter like to be fucked, or did he prefer to do the fucking? Tony wasn’t difficult, and he was sure that he would love whatever they did.

In a parallel universe, where Peter wanted him.

Where Peter loved him back.

But Peter just liked him as his friend and Captain, and Tony had made his peace with that. Eventually - in another couple of years, maybe - his heart and his dick would get the memo. Meanwhile, he’d keep this gigantic crush under wraps. Lots and lots of wraps.

He was a third of the way down the report, smiling at Peter’s affectionate description of the warp core reactor, when yellow lights started flashing. Tony slammed down the datapad and shot to his feet. _Action_ , at last.

“What’s going on?” he barked.

“Not my fault,” Clint was quick to say. “There’s nothing out there.”

“Cloaked tech?” Natasha suggested, swirling around in her chair. “Chitauri are rumored to have perfected theirs.”

Tony shivered in disgust. He hated those fuckers on principle, and he wanted to kill every single one of them since _The Avengers_ had come across one of their ships two months ago. It hadn’t been a peaceful encounter, and for once, Tony would have loved to be bored, rather than boarded. He hadn’t mind cutting the heads of his enemies. Or watching Natasha and Hawkeye engage in a lovely competition over who would kill the most Chitauri. What he had minded, very much as that, was how one of those fuckers had managed to crawl down into the engine room and attack Peter. The kid had held his own, but the two scratches and collection of bruises he’d gotten as a result, and the gleam of fear that remained in his eyes for days afterwards, had put Tony on edge of _weeks_. He’d visited engineering almost on an hourly basis after Peter had been cleared from medical, at least until the kid himself had _given him a hug and told him to stop worrying._

Tony had liked that hug a lot. Even if it was just, you know, a friendly gesture. Even Captains needed comfort, sometimes.

“Engineering to Bridge.”

Peter’s voice. Higher-pitched than usual, with an undercurrent of frustration.

“Do you know what’s wrong with my ship, Pete?” Tony asked, careful not to raise his voice. 

“Nothing, Sir!” the kid replied at once, and started to explain how _nothing_ was being the cause of the current alert.

Tony couldn't help but imagine the flushed face of his chief engineer. He bit back a smile as the kid described a very minor issue with the core, one that he knew would be fixed in no time in Peter’s capable hands.

“… so you shouldn’t worry, Captain, it’s all under control. You can count on me.”

That urge to please, again. Such _eagerness_. Tony gripped the arm of his chair and exhaled sharply. “I’m not worried, Pete.” He wasn’t anymore. “This has been a boring shift so far, and I appreciate the excitement you provide.”

“… Captain?”

Tony quickly backpedaled, cursing his (lack of) brain-to-mouth filter. “Er, I know the ship’s in capable hands. Have fun, kid, and call back if you need anything.”

There was a brief pause.

“I’ll have this fixed in half an hour, top, Captain,” Peter assured him. 

“Perfect. Go work your magic, kid. Stark out.”

Clint made gagging noises at him, and Tony flipped him the bird. Natasha smirked, and Loki… Loki looked away from his datapad, which he never did when the humans were ‘busy engaging in infantile behavior’ (his words, not Tony).

“Your cheeks and neck are flushed, Captain,” the Jotun said in the smooth, analytical, headache-inducing tone he favored whenever he aimed to get on Tony’s nerves. “And you’re _twitchy_. My long study of the human body language would indicate-”

“Unless you have something useful to say about the state of the core, I want to hear silence.”

A brief pause. Too brief to Tony’s taste.

“Silence, by its very definition, cannot be heard.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do not.”

At the console, Clint snickered. Wisely, Loki didn’t pursue the issue, and Tony spent the next five minutes doing those stupid calming exercises Phil had insisted to teach him. Once more, he’d forgotten how well Loki could read him. He was sure that his blush was only noticeable to a Jotun. And Loki had an amazing quality that few people on board _The Avenger_ possessed: he minded his own business where private matters were concerned.

*

At the end of Alpha Shift, Tony ended up with the usual players for a round of poker in the rec room. Gambling wasn’t legal, so they betted on menial chores no one wanted to do but had to be done. Natasha usually won, because she had the meanest poker face Tony had ever seen. He wasn’t sure why he bothered playing against here. Probably because unlike some captains, he liked his crew…

“It’s getting kind of old, you know.” Clint made a show of studying and rearranging his cards. “Your crush for Peter.”

… And apparently, he liked to have his private life discussed on poker nights, as well. Because it happened every single time. Tony suspected that Phil had joined them to add his grain of salt to this particular conversation, and not because he wanted to spend more time with his two lovers. Tony hadn’t reported them, of course. He was happy for the three of them. They were discreet, and their feelings for each other didn’t get in the way of their job.

Which seemed to be a concern in Tony’s case, for some reason.

He discarded a seven and picked a new card. _Another_ seven. At least, it was spades.

“I’m not pining,” he lied.

“Sure you are.” Clint snorted, laid one card down, and gestured for Phil to give him a new one. “Everybody knows.”

“Everybody.” Phil nodded very seriously, as though he’d just offered a priceless piece of wisdom. “Even that redshirt whose name I keep forgetting.”

“Justin Hammer,” Natasha said helpfully. The extend of her knowledge scared Tony, sometimes. “I hate him, too. But you’re right, he probably knows.”

“Mind your own damn sex life,” Tony snapped, and was infinitely glad that Peter liked his job too much to play poker with them. Not that Natasha, Clint, and Phil would have discussed _this_ with the interested party present. Probably. “There,” he said, and tossed his cards on the table. “Full house. What have you got?”

Phil had two pairs. Clint had nothing worth mentioning.

Natasha revealed a straight full, to a round of defeated groans. With a satisfied smirk, she collected a dozen of ‘Giveaway Chore’ tokens. “It is our business if you’re distracted because you’re pining,” she remarked mildly.

“I told you-”

“You should realize the futility of this endeavor and confess to the poor kid already.”

Tony scoffed. “I’m sure Fury would agree.”

“Like you give a shit what Fury thinks.” That had been Phil, who’d just reached his daily quota of swear words. “Just tell Peter already.”

Tony groaned. “I may not care about what Mad-Eye thinks, but I do value the kid’s own opinion, and he’s not interested.”

“Are you serious right now?” Clint’s eyes went wide. “Peter’s crush is even more obvious than your own.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Honestly, _Anthony_.” Natasha only ever called him by his full name when he was being an idiot. Which he didn’t think he was right now. “Have you seriously not noticed the way he looks at you?”

“The way he blushes like a nineteen-year-old whenever you look at him,” Clint said, and then added, deadpan: “Wait, he _is_ nineteen.”

“Shut up, Clint.” Tony pushed back his chair and stood. He wasn’t stupid. He would know if the kid… _Fuck_. “I need to go.”

He’d almost reached the door when Clint spoke again. “It will still be our business then, you know.”

“What?”

Clint shrugged, and shared a knowing look with Natasha before leaning in for a quick, sweet kiss. “Once you’re done dancing around each other, you’ll be fucking him all around the ship.”

“I certainly will not!”

“Fuck him, or tell him?”

“Fuck you, Barton.”

“Not an option, Captain.” Clint’s tone was cheerful as he spoke.

“Good night, Captain.”

Natasha’s wasn’t. The words were friendly, but they evoked more a warning than a farewell.

Tony fled the room.

*

Phil didn’t need his help in sickbay, but Tony helped out anyway. Spending time with the sick and wounded _was_ part of his Captain duties, and he cared for his crew. The fact that his presence annoyed Phil, because Tony hadn’t slept in twenty-six hours and really should be in bed right now, was just a nice bonus.

Tony was too wired-up to sleep. If Peter _liked_ him - and that was one big if - it changed nothing. Tony had sworn he wouldn’t _initiate_ anything. His moral compass might be fractured, he still held himself to some standards. He wouldn’t seduce the kid, wouldn’t take advantage of Peter like that.

But he would burn down _worlds_ for that kid. In a heartbeat.

“… Pete?”

The kid was standing in front of his door. The door leading to _Tony_ ’s quarters. He was still dressed in his work uniform, a red shirt stained with grease and black pants that were probably just as dirty, if more subtly, from his work at the heart of the ship. The moment he saw Tony, his face turned the color of his shirt, and he twisted his hands together

“C-Captain,” Peter said, barely above a whisper.

He bit down his lip, eyes darting from Tony to the floor, and then back up to Tony again, zeroing at his throat. Or his mouth, maybe? There was the usual bouquet of stars in his eyes, and his cute smile was in place, but he looked… shy, in a way Tony wasn’t familiar with.

His heart began to pound. His plan to spend the rest of Beta shift nursing a glass of his last bottle of Scotch while contemplating his life’s choices flew straight out of the window - depressurized and everything.

“Are you okay?” Tony found enough neurons to ask. Fuck, the kid was gorgeous. He always was, but with his flushed cheeks streaked grey and black by his day’s work, his passion, he was downright irresistible. Tony wanted to devour him, and the effort it took to stay right where he was, shove his hands in his pockets, and (try to) will away his erection yielded a surprising result.

Peter pushed away from the door and stepped towards Tony.

“Captain.” The heat and hope shining in those big doe eyes came straight from Tony’s wildest dreams. “I…”

Their lips met.

Tony didn’t initiate the kiss, but he sure as hell returned it. The kid tasted like honey and coffee, and something that was uniquely Peter, and uniquely addictive. Tony meant to keep it slow, to let the kid set the pace and not get ahead of himself, but that resolve wavered when Peter’s shyness faded and a warm tongue dipped inside his mouth. Fuck, the kid was so eager, and surprisingly talented for someone who spent all of their times playing with the ~~arc~~ warp reactor. If Tony hadn’t been so sure this might be his only shot, he might have lost a few precious seconds to jealousy.

He didn’t. He kissed Peter for all he was worth, pouring into that wet, dirty kiss every ounce of that feeling eating him up inside. When they parted to breathe, Peter’s pupils were blown wide, and the stars in his eyes had evolved into complex galaxies. Tony thought back on Natasha and Clint’s words, and began to suspect if he’d really been an idiot, if he’d misread Peter’s intent that much.

“Pete-”

“I know, there are regulations against this.” Peter lowered his gaze. At some point when they’d been kissing, he’d gripped Tony’s shoulders for balance, and he hadn’t let go. His grip tightened further as he spoke. “I apologize, Captain, I just... I thought-”

“I’m not going to quote regulations,” Tony heard himself say, with a calm that baffled him. “I don’t care about the stupid rule book Admiral Fury wrote in his spare time. What I do care about…” He knew he should think this through, but the words wanted out, called forth by the vulnerability in Peter’s expression. “I only care about how _you_ feel about this.”

“This?”

“You. Me.” Tony felt tired, suddenly. What if this was just lust? He didn’t think he could go ahead with a simple tryst, no matter how much his dick backed the idea. There was a reason he put on so many masks. He heaved out a sigh. “I’m not exactly the best choice for a one-night-stand.”

“You believe I would risk my place on _The Avenger_ for a one-night-stand?” Peter sounded insulted. And furious. His fingers dug in Tony’s shoulders, _hard_. “That’s not what this is.”

Tony felt the pressure much deeper than skin level, and wondered if his heart was about to slam right _through_ his rib cage. He realized he felt nervous, under all the hope. “So you’re saying that-”

“I want you, but that’s not why I risked my career.”

The fierceness in Peter’s gaze just then… Fuck, Tony wanted another kiss so bad. So he leaned in. And kissed that sweet mouth, again, and again, and again, until it occurred to him that this was one of the most frequented corridors and his own quarters were literally a foot away.

“I love you too,” he whispered in between kisses to Peter’s jaw. “You have no idea how long…”

“Not as much as me, that’s for sure.”

Tony chuckled, relief and amusement layering the lust gathering low in his gut. “Are you willing to bet on that?”

“What currency are you accepting tonight, Captain?”

“I believe you should call me Tony.”

The kid licked his lips. “Tony,” he said, and grinned. “ _Tony_.”

In the intimacy of his quarters, Tony got to hear a lot more of his name. First, when he pressed Peter against the wall and kissed his neck and shoulders, hands roaming the kid’s warm chest under his uniform. Later, when he explored Peter’s naked form with his mouth and hands. Peter’s skin was white and unblemished, and Tony had dreamed about covering him with marks that weren’t grease. He’d fantasized about sucking the genius engineer’s cock right there in his quarters, and finger that cute little asshole until the only word Peter knew was ‘please’, or ‘Tony’.

And he got to do all that, and more, while _The Avenger_ raced towards the stars of faraway galaxies.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I think about it, I did write some Loki/Tony in the Star Trek 'verse once upon a time... *shuffles through digital pages* There! It's called [Cool Wonder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659170).


End file.
